Captain Stormfield’s Visit To Heaven

the office, hoping to come out into heaven any moment, but it was a

mistake. That hall was built on the general heavenly plan – it

naturally couldn’t be small. At last I got so tired I couldn’t go

any farther; so I sat down to rest, and begun to tackle the

queerest sort of strangers and ask for information, but I didn’t

get any; they couldn’t understand my language, and I could not

understand theirs. I got dreadfully lonesome. I was so down-

hearted and homesick I wished a hundred times I never had died. I

turned back, of course. About noon next day, I got back at last

and was on hand at the booking-office once more. Says I to the

head clerk –

“I begin to see that a man’s got to be in his own Heaven to be

happy.”

“Perfectly correct,” says he. “Did you imagine the same heaven

would suit all sorts of men?”

“Well, I had that idea – but I see the foolishness of it. Which

way am I to go to get to my district?”

He called the under clerk that had examined the map, and he gave me

general directions. I thanked him and started; but he says –

“Wait a minute; it is millions of leagues from here. Go outside

and stand on that red wishing-carpet; shut your eyes, hold your

breath, and wish yourself there.”

“I’m much obliged,” says I; “why didn’t you dart me through when I

first arrived?”

“We have a good deal to think of here; it was your place to think

of it and ask for it. Good-by; we probably sha’n’t see you in this

region for a thousand centuries or so.”

“In that case, O REVOOR,” says I.

I hopped onto the carpet and held my breath and shut my eyes and

wished I was in the booking-office of my own section. The very

next instant a voice I knew sung out in a business kind of a way –

“A harp and a hymn-book, pair of wings and a halo, size 13, for

Cap’n Eli Stormfield, of San Francisco! – make him out a clean bill

of health, and let him in.”

I opened my eyes. Sure enough, it was a Pi Ute Injun I used to

know in Tulare County; mighty good fellow – I remembered being at

his funeral, which consisted of him being burnt and the other

Injuns gauming their faces with his ashes and howling like

wildcats. He was powerful glad to see me, and you may make up your

mind I was just as glad to see him, and feel that I was in the

right kind of a heaven at last.

Just as far as your eye could reach, there was swarms of clerks,

running and bustling around, tricking out thousands of Yanks and

Mexicans and English and Arabs, and all sorts of people in their

new outfits; and when they gave me my kit and I put on my halo and

took a look in the glass, I could have jumped over a house for joy,

I was so happy. “Now THIS is something like!” says I. “Now,” says

I, “I’m all right – show me a cloud.”

Inside of fifteen minutes I was a mile on my way towards the cloud-

banks and about a million people along with me. Most of us tried

to fly, but some got crippled and nobody made a success of it. So

we concluded to walk, for the present, till we had had some wing

practice.

We begun to meet swarms of folks who were coming back. Some had

harps and nothing else; some had hymn-books and nothing else; some

had nothing at all; all of them looked meek and uncomfortable; one

young fellow hadn’t anything left but his halo, and he was carrying

that in his hand; all of a sudden he offered it to me and says –

“Will you hold it for me a minute?”

Then he disappeared in the crowd. I went on. A woman asked me to

hold her palm branch, and then SHE disappeared. A girl got me to

hold her harp for her, and by George, SHE disappeared; and so on

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